Overrated
by Girl in a White Dress
Summary: So why didn't you have plans for tonight?" CG


Title: Over-rated

Author: Melanie-Anne

Email: melsie04@hotmail.com 

Rating: PG

Archive: Where you will, just let me know.

Summary: "So why didn't you have plans for tonight?" C/G

Disclaimer: Not mine ::sad sigh::

* * *

She fell in love with him over a dead body.

Rather, that's when she realized it. In truth, she'd been slowly falling in love with him for years. By the time she figured it out, it was too late to do anything about it.

And she was certain he had absolutely no idea how she felt which, given further thought, was not necessarily a bad thing.

. . . Over a dead body, of all things, she thought. It wasn't natural and she wondered if something was wrong with her. If doing this job had somehow changed her. Life certainly wasn't the fairytale she'd dreamed about as a child. Hell, at this point she'd happily settle for a schmaltzy Hollywood romance. 

But no, she had to have bugs and bodies. Fantastic.

He was having a ball, of course. Peering at a bug that was wriggling in his forceps. Looking for all the world like a kid on Christmas morning.

She knew that in absolutely no universe could watching a man study a bug be construed as sexy.

Except hers. 

Yep, she thought. It's official. I've lost it.

But when he looked up and smiled at her, she knew there was nowhere on earth that she would rather be than here at his side.

He was going to break her heart, that was a given. A relationship was out of the question for so many reasons, least of all the fact that she had no idea how he felt about her.

She couldn't help chuckling. God, she thought, unrequited love. It's a fairytale and a schmaltzy romance all in one.

"Something funny?" he asked.

She gestured at their surroundings. "Just thinking how romantic this is: a guy and a girl, alone in the desert, a decomposing body for the girl, wriggly bugs for the guy . . . happy Valentine's Day, Griss. You sure know how to make a girl feel special."

A smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "Is it Valentine's Day? No wonder Nick didn't want to work tonight."

She shrugged. "I hope you let him take the night off."

"Of course I did. I'm not a complete grinch."

"The grinch stole Christmas, not Valentine's." She stared at him, feigning shock.

He chuckled. "Of course. So did I spoil any of your plans by making you work tonight?"

"No. I actually think the whole Valentine's spiel is over-rated."

"Don't most women love the chocolate and flowers scene?"

"I'm not most women."

He looked at her for a long moment. She wondered if he'd forgotten the body but then he nodded and turned back to his bug. He spoke so softly that she almost missed his reply: "Yes . . . definitely not most women."

She stood and moved away from the body before dusting the dirt from her pants. "If you're done playing with your worm, can we get this back to the lab?"

Too late, she realized how that sounded, but Catherine was not a woman who blushed easily. When Grissom looked up at her, she simply smiled and arched an eyebrow.

"This isn't a worm, Cath. It's—"

She held up a hand. "I don't need to know the details."

Grissom began to pack up. "So why didn't you have plans for tonight?"

Catherine shrugged. "I don't know. I guess I'm just tired of the whole dating thing. Besides, I don't have a great track record when it comes to picking guys."

They stepped aside to let the ME take over. David just nodded when they greeted him, his attention already on the body.

"And I'd rather spend time with Lindsey anyway," Catherine said when they were in the car. "But what about you?"

"What about me?"

"Why didn't you have plans for tonight?"

"Who said I didn't have plans?"

Something tightened in Catherine's chest; her blood hammered through her veins. She'd just assumed . . . "Well, then?" She tried to sound light, to pretend that his answer hadn't affected her.

Grissom just smiled. Catherine's heart dropped. It's Sara, she thought. I should have seen this coming.

They were silent the rest of the way to the lab. Catherine couldn't bring herself to look at him, afraid he would see how she felt, and she was so lost in thought that she didn't notice the tiny glances he sent her way.

Later that night, Catherine decided she'd had enough of staring at a computer screen (What was the rush? she thought. The guy would still be dead in the morning) and headed to the break room. Her head down, she narrowly missed knocking Grissom over. Instead, she ended up with coffee splashed down the front of her shirt, pooling at her feet. Grissom looked amused.

"I was just bringing you a cup of coffee. If I'd known you were planning on wearing it—" When he noticed she obviously didn't find the situation funny, he grew serious and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket. "I'm sorry. I should have paid more attention to where I was going."

She was too stunned to speak. She could only watch as he dabbed at the front of her shirt. He stopped suddenly.

"Is this okay? Can I--?"

Catherine nodded. Instead of continuing, Grissom's hand dropped to his side.

"I'm sorry. This wasn't what I had in mind for this evening."

She realized then what he was trying to say, and a slow smile bloomed on her face. "Tell you what," she said, "if you take me home to change, we can go find a place that serves real coffee."

He looked uncharacteristically nervous. "Our John Doe—"

"Isn't going anywhere." She hooked her arm through his. "Come on, you can tell me what your plans were."

As they headed outside, Grissom bent his head to Catherine's and whispered his reply. 

And Catherine blushed.

* * *


End file.
